


IX. Precious - Wisdom From a Garden of Statues

by 56leon



Series: 2018 Inktober Prompts / Fictober Fills [9]
Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Gods, everybody is scared, except for Aelfric because he needs to be the Leader TM, ignore the fact that I swapped Aeber and Aelfric in the lineup oops, nobody is omnipotent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 20:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16290827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/56leon/pseuds/56leon
Summary: Inktober/Fictober Day 9. Precious. Late.A one-scene look into the lives of the Orsterran pantheon on the eve of Galdera's resurrection. Their beliefs, their relations.....and the doubts that even the immortal hold in their hearts.





	IX. Precious - Wisdom From a Garden of Statues

**Author's Note:**

> Not much to say this time, except Dohter is a woman and nobody's going to change my mind on that.
> 
> Didn't include the subclass bosses because I have a headcanon that they're part of a separate pantheon. It's complicated. Creation theories are complicated.

##  Time is precious, but truth is more precious than time.  
                                -Benjamin Disraeli

* * *

They say Paradise is a garden. They say the trees are abundant with fruit and the water is so clear that you can see the other side of the world reflected in the bottom of the lake. They say that the gods live there, those who have protected humanity, and that there is no chaos in a world of pure peace.

Well Aelfric thinks that last one is a load of crock, but they’re in something of an international crisis here. He’s the only one staring at the scrying pond as the others gather in a nearly-complete circle behind him, each of them with varying levels of worry on their face. It’s not that they don’t want to intervene, but rather that they  _ cannot- _ they have already meddled in Orsterran affairs as much as they’re allowed to, and all that’s left is to sit back and watch.

The others, understandably, are not too thrilled with this fact.

The look on Alephan’s face is almost terrifying as he reads and rereads through his tome, searching for  _ something _ . “I don’t  _ understand,” _ he murmurs under his breath, scanning the pages for an inkling of an answer. “We.....we did everything right. We’re  _ doing _ everything right. And yet Lyblac....Galdera, he-”

“He knoweth the future just as keenly as we, Alephan,” is the interjection of the huntress next to him, and Draefendi glances over at Aelfric. “Yet he also commandeth the future just as intently. Have thee any inkling for our next actions, _Father?”_

The call to his standing in the church - the church that existed long before his own godhood, which exists no more save for in his own heart - is embedded with intricate sarcasm that those unfamiliar with Draefendi and her curt attitude may not catch, but is evident to Aelfric as he breathes out a long, weary sigh. “Our next actions are to wait, Draefendi dear. Just as Galdera knows he is unable to move until Lyblac truly breaks him from the Gates of Finis, we as well are not allowed to intervene until then.”  _ If they’re allowed to intervene at all, _ is the unspoken doubt in everybody’s minds.

“Ah yes!” Aeber swings his arms out dramatically as if gesturing to everybody else present; the daggers strapped to his chest tap against each other and the metal buttons on his shirt as he makes a scene. “We, the great  _ protectors _ and  _ sovereigns _ of Orsterra- no, of  _ the entire world, _ are just going to sit back and  _ twiddle our thumbs _ while a scrawny witch resurrects her father to plunge the world into eternal chaos! That sounds like a _grand_ time, Aelfric!”

Sealticge scowls at the outburst, shooting Aeber a stiff glare. “And what do you propose,  _ brother? _ Why don’t you just go in there with your almighty  _ law-breaking _ and become the malevolent dictator that Galdera will become anyways, hm? You’ll surely do a bang-up job of that.”

“Bite me,  _ sister,” _ he hisses back, his hands moving on rest on his knees as he glares at her. “At least I can hold my own when it comes to godhood. You’re about as helpful as a noblewoman in the middle of a battlefield.”

“By ourselves, Aeber, this  _ noblewoman _ can’t count on both hands how many times she has saved your-”

“Oh will you both sod off, we're  _ all  _ useless at this point,” is Brand's agitated cry as his fingers curl and uncurl restlessly by his side. “We're just a bunch of damned statues being worshipped in this blasted garden that we didn't ask to have made in our name.” Despite his blessing, despite the mortal man who he's given as much power as he's allowed, Brand knows that he as a deity has no influence over the events to unfold, and that he- nay, everybody in the Paradise has chalked Orsterra's fate up to eight humans and a fate that even gods cannot foresee.

Next to him, the eldest of the eight nervously flicks a leaf between his knuckles, a nervous tick from far before he was deemed the patron god of monetary affairs. “Please, Brand,” Bifelgan tries to reason with him, “you know they mean the best. If they think our intervention comes from belief, then maybe it’s best to let them keep believing.”

The other gods murmur in slight agreement, but Dohter says nothing, and for good reason. Those who pray to her are the weak, the frail, of body and of soul. Those who are lost, those who may soon  _ be _ lost........those who believe in her to protect them are oft the ones who turn their backs when she is unable to help though she most desperately wants to. Finally, after the low words have died down and been replaced by downcast glances, she speaks.

“I don’t want to say that I don’t care if they win, Aelfric.” She looks hesitant as her eyes dart between the images playing on the water's surface and the the terrified looks in everyone else’s eyes. Her own almost mirror the same, but it’s the nervous brushing of her fingers against her satchel that truly give her away. “I would be lying if I did. But....I just want them to survive.”

“And so they shall,” Aelfric replies coldly, watching the girl who carries his burden and shoulders a flame that can never die. Though his words are harsh, the reprimands are meant not towards the girl whose softness has managed to retain the light of the First Flame for so long, but the other gods who doubt not only their respective charges, but each other's as well. Age is not a factor which determines how noble one’s goal is, how achievable one’s dream is, and  _ they _ should know that far better than anyone else. For they were but humans once, and the will of a human is stronger than any of a god that has given it to them.

“So they shall.”


End file.
